


Stuck on my Elevator

by mariposaroja



Category: MotoGP RPF, Motorcycling RPF
Genre: M/M, One Shot, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 18:11:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4069621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariposaroja/pseuds/mariposaroja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Marc happens across the Motorskink meme and things take an interesting turn... <br/><i>They say a little knowledge is a dangerous thing, but it's not one half so bad as a lot of ignorance.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Stuck on my Elevator

**Author's Note:**

> In response to this prompt at motorskink:  
> "Driver/Rider A posts an anon prompt on here asking for him and Driver/Rider B in some scenario that then actually ends up happening (some sort of one off event that would never usually happen like a delay or trapped in the a storm...) and that makes them remember the prompt (or rather, the imaginary fill.) Driver/Rider B has also seen this however, and they end up starting to act it out, then realising...??  
> Mainly just prompting for the idea (has it been done before?) but personally I'd like no Scandinavians or Germans and preferably at least one Spaniard, MotoGP and/or F1. ;)" 
> 
> Not just one Spaniard, my two favourite Spaniards ;) It's taken the better part of 8 months to complete but here it finally is!

_‘MotoGP. Marquez and Pedrosa stuck in an elevator. Let your imagination run wild…’_

He triple checked that the setting was on anonymous before quickly posting the comment, afraid that he would suddenly change his mind. But he couldn’t now. It was out there, no way of getting it back…

And then the shame began to take over.

Marc stared at the computer screen with wide brown eyes, unable to actually believe what he’d just done. It was wrong- wrong on so many levels that he couldn’t even begin to imagine- but he couldn’t help it. It was just something he needed to get out of his system. It was as if he hadn’t been able to think of anything else since accidentally happening across this ‘kink-meme’ almost two weeks ago.

In truth, Marc had absolutely no idea how he actually ended up on the page in the first place. He just remembers the confusion then horror then intrigue after reading the first few comments. And then it seemed that every prompt he read was pulling him further and further into some deep abyss that he wasn’t sure that he wanted to escape from. It started off as just Formula 1 but then the posters seemed to get adventurous enough to start requesting and dabbling in other motorsports like IndyCar and, eventually, made their way to the wonderful world of MotoGP.

And that’s when Marc realised that he had been on this site too long. But by then it was far too late. He started by reading a fill about Cal and Matt being cute together and that didn’t make the Honda rider feel too bad. Because they were often cute together so, therefore, it could actually be a true story… Then things started getting a lot less PG. Suddenly, Jorge was having hot hate sex with Dani and Vale and even Marc himself (in fact, hate was involved in nearly every single one of his exploits). And it should have completely freaked him out. Because it definitely wasn’t normal for someone to read erotic stories about their fellow riders. But the guilt itself wasn’t enough to deter him.

So Marc continued reading the stories; but even more than that, he continued to _enjoy_ the stories. They’re what would pop into his head when he was lying in bed all alone at night or when he was in the shower after a long and tiring gym session. And the HRC rider would cringe as his hand would drift lower and lower until it was encircling his half-hard cock but he still couldn’t bring himself to stop. So, much to his shame and mortification, he spent many nights getting himself off at the thought of touching one of his fellow riders. Or being touched by them. Or them touching each other.

And the urge to write a prompt of his own, have a story crafted to fit his needs alone, was just too enticing to resist. So he thought about it for a couple of days before finally plucking up the courage and posting the damn thing on a very lonely night in Malaysia. A mixture of horror and satisfaction overcame him when the page loaded, proudly displaying the comment that he couldn’t remove if he tried. Gasping, Marc forcefully pressed the back and refresh button a couple of times but there it remained, a permanent manifestation of his shameful… habit.

Eyes scanning over the words again and again, he made an ‘eek’ noise and hastily shut the laptop, pushing it as far away from him as possible without causing it to fall off the side of the bed. _What have I just done? Wrong; this is so wrong!_ And yet Marc, though he tried, could not erase the words from his mind. Or, more accurately, the desire for those words to be brought to life…

After a further minute or two of self-loathing, he let out a groan and placed his computer on the locker next to the bed before switching off the lamp and childishly pulling the covers up over his head. Making that comment was something he would inevitably regret in the morning; hell, he was already beginning to regret it, but sleep was a better alternative to… _satisfying_ his needs and making himself feel even more shameful. So Marc willed himself to go to sleep (after checking once- or maybe more than once- to make sure that no replies had already been posted), deciding to deal with it in the morning.

White hot embarrassment was the only way to describe what he felt when he laid eyes on his (very much unsuspecting) team mate the next morning. Curiously, Marc couldn’t decide whether the fact that Dani was blissfully ignorant to the whole thing made him feel better or worse. Ultimately, he decided that it didn’t really matter; he would still do his best to avoid his team mate like the plague anyway.

His little… obsession found him in a couple of awkward situations over the course of the next few days. While waiting to go out for practice on Friday afternoon, Marc had been sitting in his chair in the garage scrolling through new comments and refreshing every so often to see if anyone had yet answered his request (he was always filled with disappointment when it turned out that no, they hadn’t). Marc, just a tiny bit amused by the absurdity of the whole situation, wondered how his fellow kinkmeme enthusiasts would react if they knew that it was he that had posted that prompt.

When Santi told him it was time to go, he immediately left his phone down on his chair, very much planning on resuming his browsing after he was finished.

“I’m going to move your phone over here in case something happens to it,” the minute the word ‘phone’ left Emilio’s mouth, Marc spun on his heel, a look of complete and utter horror etched on his face.

“NO!” Realising that the whole garage probably heard his little outburst, his cheeks burned bright red and he chewed on his lower lip, wishing that he could rewind two minutes and stop himself from making a complete idiot of himself. “Sorry, I… sorry.”

Eyebrow arched in a mixture of mild amusement and surprise, Emilio made an elaborate show of placing it on a ledge at the very far corner of the garage. “Don’t worry, it will still be here when you get back.”

Giving his manager a weak smile and a nod, Marc uttered a quiet thanks before heading out into the pit lane where, hopefully, he couldn’t further embarrass himself.

A reply came to his request on Saturday night.

At first Marc genuinely believed his eyes were deceiving him but when he scrolled down and saw three more replies of considerable length, he knew that his wish had been fulfilled. His heart thumped violently against his chest as he began to read…

_This prompt gave me so many feels that I just had to write it! Hope it’s what you were after!_

_Stuck on my Elevator_

_Marc Marquez/ Dani Pedrosa_

_Warning: Explicit_

_Marc had once heard that the odds of getting trapped in an elevator were one in five thousand…_

*****

 

Dani was sitting on the bed in his hotel room the night of qualifying in Sepang, going through his mountain of emails with about as much enthusiasm as a sloth. Interview, interview, sponsor, interview, Alberto, interview, Jorge Lorenzo…

Jorge Lorenzo.

With a frown, Dani scrolled back up, wondering what on earth Lorenzo could be emailing him about. No subject. _You irritate me beyond belief. If it’s a motivational quote I’m going to punch you tomorrow._

He clicked into it with a huff, curiosity getting the better of him. The contents of the email only heightened his confusion:

_You should take a look at this._

_ motorskink.livejournal.com/58921  _

_Jorge._

Without a second thought, although a little wary all the same, Dani clicked on the link and waited as he was brought to the page in question. Although it was all in English, he could pretty much make out everything that was written.

_Prompt Post 9_

_MotoGP. Marquez and Pedrosa stuck in an elevator. Let your imagination run wild…_

After reading that, Dani frowned to himself, desperately trying to remember if there was a time that he and Marc had, in fact, gotten stuck in an elevator that he had somehow managed to forget about. Or something so traumatic that he had managed to block out. After a minute Dani came to the satisfactory conclusion that no such thing had ever happen. _So what is this person talking about?_ He read on.

Unfortunately, however, it seemed to ask more questions than it actually answered and Dani was left feeling even more perplexed and bewildered. Maybe that was Jorge’s plan? Confuse him so much that he was thrown off his game for the race tomorrow. _Typical_ , Dani grimaced and kept on reading.

_‘Dani found himself unable to avert his eyes from the heavenly gift that was his team mate’s lips.’_

What?!

Dani was nearly one hundred percent sure that he’d never thought of Marc’s lips as ‘heavenly’ and even if he did- which he didn’t- there had certainly never been a time when he couldn’t ‘avert his eyes’ from them. All the warning signs were there that he should stop reading (because he had more than a small inkling of where this was going) but somehow the Honda rider found himself unable to do so. As frightening as it was, he couldn’t look away.

_‘Without a word, Dani dipped his hand beneath the waistband of Marc’s jeans, relishing the expression of wide eyed disbelief on the younger man’s face.’_

_What the HELL is going on?! What is-_

_Fuck._

His gaze dropped to his lap. Yup, there it was, a noticeable bulge in his pants.

“JORGE LORENZO I AM GOING TO KILL YOU WITH MY BARE HANDS.”

With a murderous expression on his face, Dani grit his teeth before picking up where he left off.

*****

 

Dani’s jaw dropped as the doors of the elevator opened to reveal one Marc Marquez, who arched an eyebrow, seemingly in silent question before asking ‘Are you going down?’.

Unable to actually find his voice so that he could answer, the older of the two nodded meekly, trying his absolute best to stop his cheeks from turning Ducati red before stepping silently into the lift.

_That’s weird._ “Ground?”

“Please.” Staying as far away from his team mate as physically possible, Dani stared intently at the metal doors as they closed. _The sooner we get down to the lobby the better because I seriously feel like it’s three hundred degrees in here. Kill. Me. Now._

A minute or two of unbearably awkward silence (Marc assumed it was he who was making it awkward because, really, there was no apparent reason for Dani to act any different around him. So now he was paranoid as well as a weirdo), he decided to say something just for the sake of breaking the tension. “Apparently we’re going to end up on wets at some stage today.” _Good. Nice, neutral conversation._

Dani slowly turned to look at the younger man albeit with great reluctance. _Don’t look at his lips… Don’t look at his lips- too late._ They were unavoidable really. He really hadn’t taken the notice before but now that he had a good look at them, they were nice (very nice even) as far as lips went. _And inviting- STOP IT. Do not quote that porn story!_

“Yeah, seventy nine percent chance of rain. Better for us than the Yamah-“

The sensation of the elevator jumping and the grating sound of metal scraping against metal made Dani completely forget what he was saying as the elevator suddenly came to a halt… And not on the ground floor. Not on any floor either; nope, they were stuck _between_ floors 2 and 1.

_Well, fuck. This cannot be happening!_

“No, no, no, no,” he whined, immediately pressing the emergency alarm button but his attempts at alerting someone were short lived as the power seemed to drain from the control panel. _What the actual fuck?! Seriously, who did I piss off in another life to warrant this much bad luck?_

“I’ll call someone,” Marc said helpfully, almost shaking at this point. As if the shock of the elevator wasn’t enough, the completely irony of the whole situation set him completely on edge. _Oh my god. I am stuck in an elevator with Dani. I am_ actually _stuck in an elevator with Dani. What kind of sick joke is this?!_ As he anxiously keyed his brother’s number into his phone, Marc came to the conclusion that the only explanation could be karma. Karma for being such a pervert.

Thankfully Alex actually answered. “Hey.”

“AlexDaniandIarestuckinanelevatorpleasesendhelpnow!”

At that stage Dani turned to face him, thinking if it wasn’t for the horror of the whole situation that he would actually be quite turned on by Marc’s frantic state. _Stop! You cannot think these things while he’s standing right over there! Especially when neither of you have any idea when you’re actually going to get out of here._ If _you’re actually going to get out of here._

“Marc, calm down. Now say that again.”

_I most certainly will not calm down!_ “Dani and I are trapped in the elevator. Send help. Quickly.”

“Okay. _Okay_. One second…”

“Yeah, sure. Why not? It’s not like we’re going anywhere, is it?”

Dani tried his best not to grin at the level of sarcasm in Marc’s voice but failed miserably. He certainly liked the feisty side of him.

“Marc? It’s Emilio. Alex has an interview so I’m going to come help you out. Have you got battery?”

_I’d rather have Emilio rescue us than Alex…_ “Yeah, fully charged. So unless my luck goes from bad to worse and the signal drops or my phone just randomly breaks then you should be able to get through to me. Dani you have your phone too?” His team mate nodded and removed the item in question from his pocket, “Yeah, Dani has his phone too.”

“Okay, I’ll try to get this sorted as quickly as possible. I’ll be in touch, call if there’s any problems.”

“I will. Thanks, Emilio.”

“Don’t do anything stupid!” his manager warned before the line went dead.

“He’s going to get us out. We’re not going to die in here,” Marc smiled at Dani who was looking at him expectantly before checking his phone wasn’t on silent and sliding it back into his pocket.

_Don’t promise me that. I’m stuck in an elevator with you after reading that…_ that _last night. It could still happen!_ “Good.”

The magnitude of the situation hit Marc once again when they fell back into awkward silence territory. This was real, this wasn’t just some hypothetical story on an online blog site. This was real life. Then why was it all he could think about was Dani’s…

_Okay! Not a good idea to be thinking about_ that _right now!_ Somehow Marc couldn’t help himself; because the way Dani was looking at him, sheepish and cheeks blushed pink, was almost too much to handle. Groaning inward, Marc squeezed his eyes shut hoping that the temperature would be so kind as to drop a couple of degrees below oven. He really hoped that Emilio would get them out soon or else he might just loose his sanity altogether.

So he did the only thing he could think of; he took out his phone once again and opened twitter. The fans would get a kick out of this even if he didn’t…

Dani took one look at the weird position Marc had contorted himself into and shook his head in disbelief. _This guy…_ “Marc? What are you doing?”

“Smile!”

“We’re stuck in an elevator and you’re taking a selfie?”

He shrugged. “Why not? Nothing else we could be doing.” _Oh my god did I actually say that?_

Dani began to cough to hide the look of pure disbelief on his face. _Stop finding sexual undertones in everything he says! Or this is going to be a long… however long we’re in here!_ He never thought he’d want to see Emilio Alzamora so badly in his life.

Marcmarquez93: Stuck in an elevator with @26DaniPedrosa… Don’t worry, we will be there for the race! pic.twitter.com/2hr38fh3h83

“You know, the odds of getting stuck in an elevator are one in five thousand.”

It wasn’t until the words had left Marc’s mouth that he realised just where he’d gotten that little statistic from. _But it’s fine, right? No harm done._ That still didn’t stop the blush from creeping into his cheeks.

Dani’s turned his head so quickly that he was surprised he didn’t snap his own neck. _What did you just say?!_ “What?”

_What??_ Marc stiffened, hoping it wasn’t enough to alert his team mate that something was in fact amiss. His cheeks began to burn. _That’s strange…_ “The odds… of getting stuck in an elevator. Like five thousand to one.” _But the odds of getting stuck in an elevator with your team mate the morning after you read a pornographic story about the two of you getting stuck in an elevator surely have to be about one in at least five million. And yet here it is, happening to me. Is this a Mastercard ad?_

“Oh. Yeah, I think I’ve heard that before…” _Calm down, Dani… must be common knowledge._

Marc sighed, letting his head fall back against the wall. “I should have taken the stairs.”

“But then I would have been in here all alone. You know what they say, safety in-“ Dani stopped as soon as his brain caught up with his mouth, his heart beginning to beat at an alarming rate as soon as he realised exactly what he was saying. _Why can’t I just forget it? Curse you to the depths of hell, Jorge Lorenzo._

_Why are you saying this??_ As if he didn’t feel dirty enough before, Dani’s innocent musings almost made his skin crawl. _If you don’t stop the memories are going to put me in a_ very _awkward position…_  “Numbers?” he finished, “Yeah, I guess but, no offence, I’d rather be anywhere in the world than here at the moment.”

“Aw, I love you too, Marc.”

And that was it, the little utterance that had Dani rueing the day he was born. Mortified wasn’t a strong enough word to properly describe just what he was feeling at that moment; humiliated beyond any redemption was probably more accurate. White hot shame seeped through every cell in his body when he saw the look on his team mates face, chocolate eyes wide in astonishment and lips- _those lips_ Dani thought desperately to himself- parted in an ‘o’ shape. _Bet you now definitely wish you were anywhere in the world but here._

_Did you just say that? Seriously? What the fuck is going on here??_ It had to be a dream, a shameful dream but a dream nonetheless. The situation was too strikingly similar to be a coincidence. Unless… No. There was no way. Dani hadn’t seen that- he _couldn’t_ have seen that, right? If there was any chance of him ever being able to look him in the eye again, that would be completely gone if that was the case. _There’s one way to find out…_ But the only question was whether he wanted to know for sure or remain blissfully ignorant. Eventually, his curiosity won out.

“Maybe that’s what’s going wrong for Yamaha…” he said lowly, inching slowly closer to Dani, gaging his reaction with every step. The older rider swallowed visibly and every inch of Marc’s body screamed, pleaded with him to stop before he ruined their relationship completely but he found himself unable to do so. Dani’s eyes remained fixated on his lips and he felt a jolt of satisfaction run through him. It was almost like a self-fulfilling prophecy, too perfect to be true or even real.

Dani’s ability to think quickly disappeared, leaving him only with his instincts and no concept of consequences or repercussions. It was Marc, just Marc with his full, inviting lips and ink black eyes that could make even the most sensible of people give in and let him have their way with them. It was just too much to resist and Dani took a step forward, yearning for the pleasure he felt while reading that story, knowing that it was within his grasp and all he had to do was reach out and take it.

So he did. With shaky hands, Dani reached out and cupped Marc’s cheeks before crushing their mouths together in a way that only an incredibly sexually frustrated man who had never kissed a guy before could. The younger man seemed to freeze beneath his touch for a moment, long enough to make Dani wonder if he had just made the biggest mistake of his life. But then his fingers found their way to Dani’s hair and his lips- _those lips_ \- began to move in synchronisation with his and it was just… too much to form words. _When did fiction become reality?_ It took Dani a minute to realise that he could use this to his advantage; he’d read the story, if he just used what happened as a guideline (it seemed like a good plan of attack) he could avoid making a fool of himself.

So he did, pivoting them so Marc’s back was now inches away from the wall but not breaking the kiss once. That distance was soon closed, the impact of his body hitting the hard surface making Marc grunt and he pulled Dani closer to him in order to get some kind of friction. “Dani…”

He almost smirked. _Ah, so you_ have _read it too… You obviously know where this is going._ Feeling brazen, Dani removed his lips from his team mates and made a line of butterfly kisses until he reached Marc’s exposed neck, contemplating for a moment if he should seek verification that this was okay. But Marc obviously knew what he was doing, so much so that he leaned his head to the right so that the olive skin was more easily accessible. Gently, yet nonetheless firmly, he bit down on the skin leaving a mark, his mark, on his team mate’s skin just above where his neck met his collar bone.

While Marc was making soft guttural noises, Dani reached down and fumbled with the zip of his team mates jeans, grinning once again when he felt the bulge beneath them. Even though the situation was not at all like he had expected it to go, he couldn’t help but delight in the turn of events.

“How long have you wanted this?” Dani arched an eyebrow, voice low and menacing as his hands remained mere millimetres away from Marc’s cock, close enough to feel his presence but not close enough to give him any kind of satisfaction.

Marc scrunched up his face, fearing that he would come from proximity alone. All he had to do was let his memory do the rest of the work. “A while.” Once he had said that, Dani found his lips once again, parting them slowly, tantalisingly, as he ghosted his fingers over his team mate’s hardness before locating the band of his boxers. “Dani… The elevator could be fixed any minute and this really is not a position I want Emilio to see me in…” Marc groaned but a subtle bucking of his hips betrayed his true desires. _Why did I just say that? Don’t stop…_

And Dani didn’t. Before Marc knew what was happening, Dani’s fingers encircled his cock, almost causing his knees to collapse. “That sounds like a challenge to me…” He remarked as he began working the younger man, eliciting sounds from him that he could never have imagined in his wildest dreams. _If I had known it would be like this I would have kissed you a long time ago._ Staring at Marc as his wrist jerked in swift moments, he could only marvel at how beautiful and… corruptible that his team mate looked. Those big brown alternating between open and closed with every twist and pull… plump, moist lips parted slightly, just enough for him to chew on the bottom… dampness on his forehead, sticking strands of dark brown hair to his skin… This _is beauty_ , Dani thought to himself, fearing that seeing Marc like this would cause him to climax without ever having been touched. With a final few tugs, Dani watched as his team mate came undone right before his very eyes, filling his palm and his boxers with hot streaks of come.

Marc’s grip on his shirt tightened, pinching his skin slightly but he was far from caring about that. “ _Dani_ … so good,” he muttered, breathing heavily as he pressed his lips against the older man’s, channeling all the desire to return the favour into one kiss. _God, you’re perfect._

_Maybe I should do this to you before you go out on track, maybe that will slow you down a bit._ Dani removed his hand from Marc’s pants, keeping his fist closed so as to make as little mess as possible, knowing that the sensation of stickiness was far from comfortable. Dani looked at his hand, all coated in liquid and wondered for a moment how he should rid himself of it. Wiping it on his clothes was a no go, it would be there for anyone to see and that in itself was embarrassing enough, never mind the fact that it came from his team mate. So, relying the guidance of the fictional porn gods once again, Dani put one of his fingers in his mouth, licking the come off in one quick movement.

Marc just stared, transfixed by the sight of his childhood hero licking his hand clean of _his_ semen, almost enough to make him hard once again. _I change my mind, there’s nowhere I would rather be right now._ He was just about to tell Dani that he would like to return the favour, but in a different way when the elevator jolted again and his team mate almost lost his balance, Marc quickly gripping his arm to stop him from falling.

It took him approximately five nanoseconds to realise that the doors would soon be opening and Marc nearly fell over himself trying to adjust his underwear in a way that would mean his zipper would actually close. _Thank god my pants weren’t down any further…_ Dani, just as flustered, quickly dried his hand on his jeans and hoped to god that there was no residue left behind. Marc had just about managed to get his button secured and shirt tucked in when the lift ground to a halt once again, but this time the doors actually opened, revealing a very stressed looking Emilio Alzamora.

Briefly exchanging a look with Dani that said ‘yeah, that happened’, Marc exited the elevator, amused that he wished they were actually still stuck in there. _I hope it breaks down more often._

“I had to threaten a couple of people but I finally managed to find someone who actually knows the fuck they’re doing. Are you two okay?”

Marc had to resist the urge to smile, although pretty sure he heard a giggle escape Dani. “We’re fine.”

“Really?” Emilio arched an eyebrow, “Because if you sustained any injuries or anything I’m suing the hotel.”

“No injuries so I don’t think any suing is necessary. It was actually a bit of a… blast, right Marc?”

_Stop talking Dani, please._ Cheeks suddenly unnaturally warm once again, he tried his best not to look at his team mate for fear of giving something away. “Definitely.”

His manager looked between the two riders, wary but willing to let it go. “Right. Okay then, we better get going…”

_Oh crap… How do I-?_ “Uh, you go ahead… I just remembered I forgot something upstairs. I’ll be down in a minute,” Marc promised, wanting to stick his tongue out when he saw the smirk on Dani’s face. _Stop it, I_ will _get you back!_

“You might want to take the stairs…” Dani grinned, thoroughly enjoying the way it made the younger man squirm. _So worth it._

*****

 

Jorge removed his helmet once as soon as he had dismounted the bike in parc fermé, a grimace in permanent position on his face. One more look at the board confirmed his suspicions. _Damn it! This was_ not _supposed to happen!_ Repsol Honda continued their monopoly on the first two spots on the grid, leaving the Yamahas third and fifth. He watched the gaudy orange clad team mates, wondering exactly how his plan could have gone wrong. Dani shouldn’t have been able to even look Marc in the eye, never mind smile and joke with him…

Then something happened that Jorge, nor anyone else for that matter but he doubted anyone else was watching close enough to see, could never have anticipated: Marc slapped Dani on the ass. Right there, right in front of the world and all those so called photographers and journalists were none the wiser. _WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. No, seriously, what the fuck??_ His jaw practically hit the floor and he looked to Valentino beside him, the look of horror on his face enough to elicit a hearty chuckle from the Italian.

“Did he just….?”

“Yes, I think he did,” Vale replied, pausing for a moment, “You think…?”

_Oh, I_ know. _And I fucking set that up, talk about a backfiring plan._ “Yes, I do.” _Seriously, what is it going to take?_ “That’s a hundred and fifty euro I’m never going to get back…”


End file.
